


If You Wanna Keep me

by michintaegi



Category: ARMY - Fandom, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: AU, Angst, Army, F/M, Fanfic, Love, Memories, Romance, bangtan boys - Freeform, bts - Freeform, kim taehyung misses you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michintaegi/pseuds/michintaegi
Summary: Short Story | Kim Taehyung





	If You Wanna Keep me

June 30.

You stared at your calendar as it reminded you about the date. Written in red, fat letters, the thing you hated the most.

CLEAN UP DAY. 

It was something you did every six months. Segregating everything you owned, and throwing away the things you didn't need.

You didn't want to clean, but you had to. There were many things in your small apartment that you didn't need.

You needed more space in your bedroom.

You started your day by eating a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice.

After cleaning up after yourself, you started going through your cupboards, drawers, and cabinets.

You put the kitchen utensils and silverware you didn't want anymore in an huge box.

You were throwing away mugs that had chips on the rims or broken handles when you came across two mugs that you haven't seen in a while. 

You kept them at the far corner of your cupboard the last time you did your general cleaning.

 

You ran your thumb on the cute drawings on the mugs. One had a girl asleep on the floor beside an open book.

 

While the mug you were still holding had a boy carrying a camera in his hands. 

A sad smile formed on your lips.

Taehyung.

You haven't seen him a while. Nine months to be exact.

You wondered how he was doing. If he was okay. If he was still studying photography.

You stared at the drawing of him on the mug, remembering the day he visited you and gave you the mugs as a gift.

His drawings were cute.

"You're giving me both of them?" You asked him.

"Well," he said with a smile. "If I stay over next time, we'll have matching coffee mugs."

And he did. During weekends, he'd stay over at your apartment. You'd stay up all night to watch movies, eat unhealthy food, and cuddle.

 

"If you wanna keep me here then take care of my coffee mug. I love my coffee." He would joke after you told him couple things were cheesy.

 

Those were just memories now.

Memories you wish you didn't remember.

You wrapped the mugs in old newspapers before adding them to the box.

You didn't need those anymore. After what you did, there was no reason for you to hold on to them. You should've thrown them months ago.

 

It was your decision. 

You just stopped loving him. Your feelings for him just faded away.

You had to leave him.

It was better than staying with him and pretending you still loved him.

It would hurt him a little less.

After a few hours, you have successfully cleaned out the kitchen and your bedroom. There were at least five huge boxes of all your things.

 

You've skipped lunch, but it didn't really matter since you weren't hungry yet. You were thinking of just eating out again.

 

If Taehyung was with you, he would've scolded you for skipping meals. He would make you stop what you were doing and make food for you.

 

"I don't like it when you skip meals," he would tell you over and over. He would bribe you with ice cream or milkshakes as a treat.

 

Why were you even thinking of him right now? You've pushed him out of your mind already, and out of your life.

Stop thinking about him.

You shook your head, as if it would help get rid of his face in your head.

Sighing, you started pulling out things from under your bed.

There were a lot of small boxes under it. Shoes that you rarely use, boxes filled with art materials, and other things.

 

Everything you pulled out from under your bed were covered in thick dust, making you sneeze.

 

There were five pairs of heels that you mostly never used. There were boxes with sewing equipment, art tools, and rolled up posters.

 

You saw how dusty it was under your bed and you decided that cleaning it would be good.

That's what he would've done if he was here.

You thought about him again.

In the last nine months, you could easily distract yourself from the thought of him.

Why was today different?

Ignoring the nagging thoughts in you head, you grabbed a broom and started sweeping under your bed.

Until your broom hit something else.

You moved the broom to the same direction, making sure that it did hit something else.

You peeked under the bed.

At the far corner, sat another box. 

You didn't know what it was. Another shoe box? 

You maneuvered the broom and used it to pull the box.

The box was so close so you just grabbed it with your other hand. 

Dust flew everywhere and it made you sneeze and cough.

Relieving yourself, you let out a breath.

In front of you was a blue and white box.

A wave of emotion hit you. Your chest tightened.

You forgot about that. You forgot about how it ended up there. Somehow it just did.

You can only remember why that box existed.

You know you threw it somewhere in your room after what happened. Out of anger and shame. 

You didn't want to hurt him, but you had to.

Everything that reminded you of him, everything he gave you, every memory you had together. 

It was in that box.

You kept them there.

It reminded you of all the good things that happened between you two.

It also reminded you of how you hurt him, how you left him.

You couldn't bare with it. You hated yourself for hurting the only person who understood you. The only person who listened to you.

 

Your chest was getting tighter. Your heart was beating faster. 

You were debating whether or not you should open it.

You knew what was inside.

Opening it would hurt you. It would remind me you of how happy you once were and how you hurt him.

And how sometimes you did miss him.

You missed how he'd remind you that you were running out of milk, that your laundry was piling up.

Sometimes he'd call you just to ask if you ate. He was just always there.

"Did you eat the fruits yet?"

"Did you sleep well?"

"Tea helps you on your period. Drink up."

"Don't sleep too late."

"You're eating too much chocolate."

"Rain or shine, bring an umbrella."

He reminded you off all the little things.

With shaking hands, you took the lid off and prepared yourself for what you'll have to see.

There was a light purple shirt on the top. It was his. The shirt he gave you the day you met.

You remembered that day clearly as well.

You were walking out of the coffee shop when a boy ran into you and spilled your coffee on yourself.

You were late for school that day.

You were having a bad day too and the coffee stain on your shirt didn't make it better.

He felt bad and gave you his extra shirt.

"You just bring extra clothes wherever you go?" You told him when he shoved the shirt on your hand.

"Yes," he said with a smile.

The first time you saw his smile. That was two years ago. You didn't know you were going to see it more often than that.

 

Then next came the black handkerchief with the panda print.

The second time you ran into him.

You remembered that day clearly too.

You were eating an ice cream as you walked by the park. You took another lick when someone bumped into you, trying to catch a ball.

 

The ice cream smeared on your face.

"Ah!" You screamed as you dropped the strawberry goodness on the ground.

"Oh crap."

He sounded familiar.

The next thing you knew, someone was wiping the mess on your face.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you."

You stared at the boy in front of you.

"Wait... I know you," he said.

He handed you the handkerchief so you can wipe your face better.

"Someday, I'll run into you again and maybe I'll return your things," you said.

"If you wanna keep it," he said. "It's okay."

That was it.

You set the shirt and the handkerchief on your floor as you grabbed the next item.

Third time's the charm, they said.

It was two weeks between your first and second encounter. It was a month between the second and third.

You sighed at the memory.

You held the black ballpoint pen on your hand.

It was a weird keepsake, you thought.

But it was the beginning.

You were in the food court at the mall, signing some forms you needed for school.

Until your ink ran out, and you had no extra pens.

There was a guy sitting at the table in front of you, his back facing you. You noticed his back pack and some books on his table.

 

Knowing he was probably a student, you walked up to him to borrow a pen.

You tapped his shoulder. "Excuse me, can I borrow a pen?"

"Mine ran out and I don't ha-"

"Are you following me?"

It was the same guy again.

"Uh n-no," you stuttered. "I uh- just need a-"

He laughed. "I'm joking. Here you go." He handed you the black pen and you took it.

"Thanks."

He started packing his stuff.

"Wait your-"

"If you wanna keep it, it's yours," he said. "I mean you still have some of my things. What's one more?" 

That was it.

You decided the next time you see him, it won't be coincidental. 

You wanted to return his things.

And maybe, just maybe, you wanted to know his name too.

And you looked for him. You'd go to the coffee shop, the park, the food court.

Again and again.

Until you saw him walking out of a photography studio, holding a vintage Polaroid.

And the rest was history.

Most of the other things in the box were small trinkets from your trips, dates, and other memorable things.

The rest were already pictures.

Each had dates and phrases, reminding you of each occasion. You went through each one.

All of it were taken with his Polaroid.

Photos of your dinner dates, your out of town trips, with his pet dog. The day you met his family, when he met yours.

All of it.

Until you got to the last one. It was taken almost nine months ago.

A few weeks before you realized you felt different towards him.

There was no caption on it. There was no date. But you know when and where that last photo was taken.

 

The memories of that morning played in your head. 

You were both on the floor in your bedroom.

That very spot you were sitting on.

He stayed over night again since you weren't feeling well.

"I want to take care of you for a long time."

He told you.

"What?" You asked.

"You know, in the future. I want to be with you for a really long time."

After that, things changed.

You became distant. It was different.

And then you fell out of love.

And then you left him.

And then you never saw or spoke with him again.

You asked him not to talk to you.

And he did just that.

Which hurt you a little, but it was what you wanted.

Up until now you still didn't know why your feelings changed.

That photo was the turning point of your relationship. Maybe you should throw that picture? Just that?

You weren't sure. Should you?

Something popped into your head. A memory to be exact.

There was a gallery by the mall. It was small.

You've been there twice.

With him.

People go there to leave pictures, to leave memories. Happy or sad, people go there to hang photos on walls, or on small tree branches.

 

Without thinking, you changed into jeans and a hoodie. You grabbed the photo and your wallet.

It was a good idea.

That way you wouldn't have to completely get rid of it.

You could always get it back.

Pictures left there were kept every two weeks.

And you could always find it. If you wanted to.

But you couldn't hold onto it right now.

Just for awhile.

Besides, it's been a long time.

You took a cab and asked the driver to drive fast.

Something inside you was pushing you to do this.

Maybe it can help with the closure.

You were the one who hurt him, but that didn't mean it didn't affect you.

It was hard for you too.

You couldn't even ask him how he was.

As you got out of the car, you ran inside the mall. The familiar direction towards the gallery.

He used to hang the photos he took there.

He loved photography. He had different cameras and filters for everything. He was great at it too.

You loved that about him.

"I want to be a well-known photographer," he told you the first time he brought you to the gallery to show you the pictures he left there.

 

You believed in him. He had great skills. You wanted him to reach his goal.

Does he still leave his portraits here?

You went inside the gallery. There were many people. People looking at pictures of other people. Some hanging theirs on the wall and plants.

 

You let out a sigh and walked around, finding the perfect place to leave that memory.

The tree in the middle if the gallery seemed right.

A staff member gave you a hole puncher, a few colorful strings, and a marker.

You didn't even want to caption it anymore.

As you hung the photo, you took one last close look. 

You remembered everything that happened that morning once again.

"I hope you're happy. I want you to be," you whispered as you stared at his smiling face in the picture.

His arms were wrapped around you.

So you remembered that day one last time. Your last happy day together.

You backed away from the photo and slowly walked away, thinking.

What made you suddenly change your mind? Why did you start shutting him out? Was there something that ticked you off? What happened?

 

That's all you thought about as you walked out the mall.

You've always avoided confronting yourself about it.

But today something was off.

Maybe it was because of all the stuff you saw today? All the memories you had with him just came flooding inside your head. It was a lot.

 

You stood outside the mall when you realized something.

You just realized why you changed.

It was stupid, really.

Mostly on your part.

You left him because you got a little scared.

He talked about a future with you that day. Something that never really crossed your mind.

You were scared that it wouldn't work out between you two. You were scared about the future he wanted.

You were young and weren't ready.

He probably just thought about it. It was obviously a spur of the moment kind of thing.

But you never thought about those things.

You didn't want to think about those things. You were upset for no reason.

Now you started to question yourself more.

Do you miss him? You knew you did.

Do you wanna see him? You know you do.

Do you still love him?

You never stopped. You do love him.

"Wow," you told yourself. You left him because you were scared about something you couldn't control? Because you weren't ready?

 

You ran back inside. Back to the gallery. You pushed your way through the people, to take back the photo you hung at the tree.

 

The moment you saw it, you immediately grabbed it.

Your eyes grew wide when you saw it.

You were sure you left the space under it empty.

There was something written on it with a very familiar handwriting.

Your heart started beating fast.

You ran your thumb on the words.

'If you wanna keep me... just say so'

He was here.

Your head started spinning, thinking about how you crossed paths without noticing.

Maybe.

Maybe he was still here.

It's time to fix this.

You clutched the photo in your hand and you immediately ran out the gallery.

As soon as you stepped out of the gallery, you halted to a stop.

Your heart stopped. The world stopped.

Standing in front of you was the boy you left.

"Taehyung."

He gave you a small smile and you knew.

You knew that you weren't going to throw away those coffee mugs.

Not now, not ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) I’m obviously not good at this but I had fun writing this. I’m going to put up all my stories here now. I hope you like this and the others that will come.


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